Empty Secrets
by LaBelleLumiere
Summary: At nineteen years old, Finnick Odair is losing the hope he desperately hangs onto. Hope for a life that could someday change. He's counting his reasons for living and they aren't adding up- but could that change when, at the reaping for the 70th Hunger Games, a name is picked that will change his life forever? Saving Annie Cresta could mean saving himself in the process.
1. Chapter 1

_How many down now? Finnick tried to remember. In the distance he could hear the boom of the canon signalling the death of another tribute which meant they were down to the last four. His chance to go home was becoming a real possibility; only three more and he would be back in district four. Now wasn't the time to let his mind wander, though. He had to focus- the canon was a reminder of the fact that this could end very differently from how he wanted it to, and his whole body tensed up as a result. His fingers were curled tightly around the trident he held in his right hand, the bottom of it digging into the soft, muddy terrain of the arena. _

_His eyes flicked to the side when the rustle of branches caught his attention. His senses were high, picking up every noise that surrounded him as though it was a warning. All Finnick wanted was to run into the trees, seek shelter and hide until this was all over, but that wasn't going to get him home. There was a part of him he didn't want to recognize taking over- the part that didn't care what he had to do to get out of here. The part of him that had already taken lives and could still feel the blood on his hands. _

_A scream resonating through the trees brought him back down to earth and his mind seemed to stop with one thought: his snare. He ran through the foliage as silently as he could but he could so as not to draw attention to himself. There were still two other tributes; they were still threats. He stopped running when he could see the panicked girl tearing at the vines he'd crafted into a net but to no avail. The vines were too strong for her to tear through as quickly as she needed to and her movements were limited in the confines of his net. He needed to act now, before she drew the attention of the others and brought them running his way. _

_Finnick lunged out of the foliage, trident in hand, and speared it through the net until he could feel it digging into her skin. He felt metal hit bone and heard her strangled cry as blood blocked most of the noise attempting to escape her throat. It was coming out in gagging motions now, from her mouth and pulsing through the gaping wound in her stomach. He tried to look away from her accusing eyes but they were all he could see. She was suffering- why was it happening so slowly. He raised the trident again and this time delivered a fatal blow. The second the light left her eyes, a canon went off and he could already hear the sound of a hovercraft coming to collect the body. Two more bodies until the nightmare was over._

**(~scenebreak~)**

Finnick was soaked in his own cold sweat, his breathing heavy as he took in the fact that he was lying in his own bed in the Victor's village. He concentrated on the fact that he was home and tried to slow his heart rate down to something that resembled normal, but every time he shut his eyes all he could see was the face from his nightmare. Her name was Eileen, a girl from district seven. She'd been a couple years older than he was at the time, probably around sixteen, and her dreams of returning home had been crushed the moment she walked into his trap. He remembered a few things about her- specific things, like how she had favoured the plants section in training and how she had said in her interview with Caesar Flickerman that she would be returning home to her mother, father and two siblings. He remembered all of their faces during the victory tour.

There was no way he would be getting back to sleep. It was a miracle he had slept as much as he did the night before the annual reaping, so at two in the morning he decided to get up and head downstairs to fix himself a glass of milk. It wasn't until he pulled the blankets down and tried to get up that he noticed he was shaking. Even years after his victory, vivid nightmares of the day he won plagued his sleep. After taking a minute to pull himself together, he moved downstairs to the kitchen.

What he wanted now was not to be alone, as he often wished to be, but Mags' company. She had gotten him through his games and several others over the years. Even his first reaping after becoming a victor was spent at her side, keeping calm only under her surveillence. It didn't matter how many years went by; the reaping was never easy, nor was the night before or even the weeks leading up to it. He tried to recall exactly how Mags fixed up the late night drinks she would make him when he had trouble sleeping. It was just warm milk but it had hints of different, soothing flavours mixed in, and he couldn't remember the exact items she used. Instead he added some cinnamon that he had stashed in one of his cupboards, mixed it around a little, and took a deep drink.

The drink did nothing for him in the way of putting him back to sleep. That was the last thing he wanted. He would much rather stay up all night than revisit Eileen or any of the other tributes he'd shown to their graves. Instead it just made him ache for Mags' company even more, and the hours until the reaping ticked slowly by.

**(~scenebreak~)**

As a result of his all-nighter, Finnick was ready for the ceremony much too early. He'd taken his time to bathe and make himself presentable as the man everyone expected to see, and when it was finally time he made his way across the road to Mags' house.

Her place was, of course, much the same as his own. All the houses in the Victor's Village were the same except for the décor, which was the only thing that stood out about hers. A few flower pots hung on either side of her doorway, light pinks and blues that gave her house a little pop. She often spoke about how beautiful the flowers would look spread out more, but the work was daunting.

A few raps on the door was all it took for Mags to call him inside and he walked into the house that felt more like his home than his own did. "Hello Mags," he greeted her, although his smile fell short of something that could be considered real. Their usual 'good morning' didn't seem appropriate on reaping day and he knew she would agree. He glanced around the house but he didn't see the old woman anywhere.

"Finnick," she said, although the way she'd said his name made it sound more like a greeting than anything else. Mags wore a smile similar to his own as she stepped into the entryway wearing a long, dark dress, her grey hair pinned up in an elegant bun. All dressed for the reaping in an outfit that could double for a funeral. Her eyes seemed to scan him briefly and, if she noticed the bags under his eyes, she didn't say anything. She simply stepped forward and sat down on the bench near the doorway so she could slip her shoes on.

Finnick remembered past years when he would ask Mags the questions he needed to hear the right answers to. Questions like 'Do you think this will ever end?', to which she either didn't reply or fed him carefully chosen words that resembled something far too close to 'No'. It would never in- not in their lifetimes. That was what she meant, and he knew, but he couldn't actively believe it. Believing that would mean accepting the fact that the rest of his life was going to be spent sending children to their deaths, otherwise spent in the arms of strangers. Although his childhood belief that things would someday change suffered with every passing day, and today he found it harder to cling to that hope. Today it seemed as though that small hope didn't exist.

"Time for us to go if we don't want to be late" Mags announced, tearing him away from his thoughts.

Finnick just nodded, giving her a weary smile. "We wouldn't want that" he agreed, and held out his arm for her to take.

It took only minutes to walk to the ceremony grounds where all of District Four was soon to be gathered. Most people had already arrived when Mags and Finnick took their places on stage, standing in the spot designated for the mentors. Finnick could remember easily a time when he'd been standing in the crowd now facing him. Three years in a row where he'd held his breath, his anxiety creeping up on him for weeks as the reaping got closer, and just hoping that it wasn't him.

The voice of the escort rang sharply through the speakers only a moment after she took the stage. Bright blue locks flowed over her shoulders, a direct contrast to the slight orange tint of her skin. Finnick regretted that he had seen stranger than her and that these traits that he had once found so amusing now only succeeded in annoying him.

"Ladies and gentlemen, as usual, we'll get started with a short historical film from the Capitol" she announced, and even though Finnick could only see the back of her head, he could almost hear the fake smile in her overly cheery voice. Even though the sound of her sweet, high octive made him want to cringe, his composure didn't falter and he glanced at the screen playing the same propaganda he'd seen every year of his life. The one that depicted that the citizens of Panem had brought this on themselves- that they were the reason their sons and daughters were sent into an arena to be slaughtered or to come out as an unrecognizable version of themselves. When the video ended, Odea,the escort, continued with her usual rant about what the video meant to her and how she always got choked up while she watched it. Something about a sense of pride- and then it was time for what everyone was waiting for. The reason some people were going to be able to breathe, and some were going to have the wind knocked out of them.

"Shall we start with the girls?" Odea asked rhetorically as she stuck her hand into the glass case, waving it around for a second before finally catching one of the fluttering pieces of paper. The tensing of the crowd was immediate. An eery hush had fallen over everyone as they waited to see if they were safe another year, or if their sons or daughters would be coming home. The anxiety was most clear on the faces of the twelve year olds standing among their age group, suffering through their first ever reapings. Finnick could see some of the girls among them grasping each others hands, their fingers tightly laced as though they would get some kind of support, some salvation.

"Annie Cresta."

Finnick's eyes scanned the crowd for the girl who would soon be joining him on stage. It was rarely hard to find the one who'd been called. The eyes of everyone in the crowd had turned her way, and his own finally locked on the girl who was walking slowly toward the stage. Her expression reflected the shock she clearly felt and her eyes were wide. It wasn't until she took her place beside Odea that he noticed she was trembling. Her fingers were clutching onto the fabric of the pale green dress she wore, her wavy brown hair semi pulled back, the rest spilling down her back. The girl stiffened as a hysterical woman was pulled away from the crowd by a peacekeeper. A parent who couldn't control her grief, who was unwilling to watch her daughter fight for her life knowing how good the chances were that she would not return.

"And now for the boys," Odea continued, her hand reaching into another container much like the first. She pulled another name out- Kellen Samuels- and a surprisingly composed boy moved toward the stage. Kellen was probably around fifteen years old or so with dirty blonde hair and a strong build, overall coming off a little older, but his young face betrayed him. This boy took his place on the stage with a hard expression- unreadable. Good. He looked strong and he didn't let his emotions get the better of him. If Finnick had to pick who's chances of seeing this place again were better- which, inevitably, he would- it would be Kellen. The trembling girl in front of him had little chance, and his eyes flicked to the screaming woman being removed from the crowd. The woman who had just lost a daughter.


	2. Chapter 2

**Obviously I do not own The Hunger Games or any of the characters. Thanks for reading- reviews are appreciated :)**

_Finnick Odair walked away from the people and the place he loved the most for the first time and possibly the last. He wanted to run, but peacekeepers were flanking him on both sides with one in the back for good measure. If he tried to run, he would be stopped before he put even so much as a foot out of line. But with every step he took, the distance between himself and his family became greater. He couldn't repress the thought that he was walking toward his own death. He was going down without a fight. Why did this feel so much like a surrender? _

_The train doors opened and he stepped inside. With an eager glance behind he saw the white fabric of the peacekeeper's uniform. A prodding in his back made him realize he'd stopped on the first step and he was jolted back to reality, taking the last few steps quickly._

_The clanging of the train doors being shut seemed to bring with it a flood of emotion Finnick had been suppressing since his name had been called. All he was aware of now was the anger he'd otherwise been choking on. Maybe it was the fact that he felt entirely alone in this moment, but his composure was melting away and he wasn't sure how he had maintained it even this long. He wanted to lash out and break something; certainly there was a variety of options even in this car alone. He could have his pick of Capitol owned property to destroy. But even as he stood with his anger boiling, he felt his eyes stinging from a build-up of tears, and he raised a hand to swipe them away before they had the chance to fall. _

_He knew he couldn't let his mentors or fellow tribute see him like this. He couldn't fall apart; falling apart wasn't going to help him win. It wasn't going to bring him home or allow him to see his family again. But the alternative meant taking lives and that wasn't something he was sure he could do. There was a jolt as the train started moving and he felt slightly unsteady for a moment as it gained momentum, carrying him away from everything he knew. Finnick dashed toward the door, eager to get another good look out the window before his district was out of eyesight._

_"It's always hard to leave it behind." Mags' old, slightly garbled speech was the only thing that brought her to his attention. She was standing near the doorway leading to the next compartment and Finnick wondered if she'd been there the whole time or if she had just come in looking for him. "It was hard for me too. It still is," she confided as the train seemed to gradually become more steady with the constant speed they had reached. _

_Finnick seemed to think about his question for a moment before he asked it, but something about the gentleness in the woman's voice told him it was okay. "Did you think you would ever see it again?" His eyes had drifted back to the window, but when he found that his home was long gone, they rested on Mags instead._

_Mags' response was slow. "I made myself believe it," she said, her eyes softening as they met his. "And I gave everyone else no choice but to believe it too."_

(~scenebreak~)

When Finnick came to find the new tributes in the lounge compartment of the train, the silenct tension in the room couldn't have been thicker. Both Kellen and Annie were making a visual effort not to speak to the other; Annie was fidgeting nervously with the hem of her dress and Kellen was picking crumbs from a piece of bread he'd picked up from the food cart. Both of them seemed to almost wake up from their thoughts, though, when he entered the room. Their gazes turned to meet him as he took a seat across from Annie. Kellen joined them immediately, obviously eager to dive in and talk about a plan- to get home as fast as possible. The feeling was too familiar.

"So what's our plan?" Kellen asked, the question slipping out of his mouth so quickly that Finnick was unsure he'd really meant to ask it. Now that it was out, the look on his face demanded answers. A side glance at Mags told Finnick the one she'd given him was less than satisfactory.

"Now? We get to the Capitol," Finnick stated, his voice calm and even despite how obvious it was that this wasn't the answer the boy had been looking for. "Until then, we talk," he continued, his voice cutting effortlessly through the other's almost-protest. "For us to create any kind of strategy, I need to know you." He finished by looking over at Mags. In past years he would look at her for reassurance, to make sure his advice was sound and that what he was telling their tributes was solid. At nineteen years old, however, Finnick looked at her only to see if there was anything she wanted to add. Mags only nodded and stayed otherwise silent.

For a second, Kellen looked like he was going to argue. After a moment of hesitation, he decided on keeping his mouth shut. It was obvious that he was trying to believe in Finnick, but his patience was wearing thin and Finnick wouldn't pretend not to understand. "Okay," he finally said, hazel eyes looking up at him with determination. "What do we talk about?"

"Tell me about what you did before. Where you come from, what you're good at." Finnick's calm composure didn't falter even though he knew Kellen was a ticking bomb.

"Seriously? You want my life story?" The blonde teen looked exasperated, as though he was seconds away from getting up and leaving the compartment or lashing out.

"No, I don't. But they're going to want to know something about you. A few things to let them know who you are and why you're going to win. Why they should sponsor you. You need them. Don't fool yourself into thinking you don't. You have to give them a reason to need you too." There was a silence that followed as the two tributes seemed to digest what he'd said. Kellen had fallen into a quietness that Annie had yet to come out of.

"They don't need me," he finally said, his gaze dropping momentarily to the floor.

"Doesn't matter," Finnick told him, his tone neutral as he addressed both teenagers. "If there's one thing the Capitol can't do, it's differentiate between want and need. Show them why they want you around. Playing by their rules even outside the arena is half of the game." Another glance over to Mags and another shake of her head.

"And the other half?" It was the first time Annie had broken the silence she'd maintained since taking her place on the stage, and Finnick looked over to where she was sitting across from him.

"Survivng."

(~scenebreak~)

It was still early when Finnick awoke from a fitful sleep, the sun barely up yet. The light flooding his room was a faint orange colour and practically nonexistant, but he knew better than to believe he was the only one up. Nights were difficult, and last night would have been just as difficult for Annie and Kellen. Finnick got out of bed and quickly got dressed, deciding to head down to the compartment that would serve as their dining room. There was always food ready early and he was suddenly starving with the realization that he hadn't eaten much of anything the day before.

He wouldn't have noticed Annie laying on the couch had she not jumped at the sound of him sliding the compartment door open so he could pass through the lounge. She had severe bedhead, brown waves sticking up in every direction. Her eyes were red and puffy from recent crying and the dark circles under them betrayed the fact that she'd gotten no sleep at all. She seemed to relax a little when she saw it was just Finnick- that she was safe for the moment- and she brought a hand up to rub at her eyes.

"You look like you could use some coffee," Finnick pointed out, offering a half smile as he stopped only momentarily at the door. "Come on, they always have some ready in the mornings," he informed her, watching as she stepped off the couch slowly. She didn't answer him but merely continued to wipe the sleep from her eyes. Asfter she seemed to wake up a little more, she made an attempt to fix her hair slightly.

Finnick pulled the compartment door open and they walked through a narrow hallway that led to the dining compartment. There was a table set up with plates, glasses and cutlery, and another laden with different assortments of breakfast foods and steaming drinks.

"Hungry?" he asked, making his way to the table where all the food was set up. He grabbed two mugs, filling them up with a dark liquid eminating a very misleading scent.

"A little, now that I smell everything," Annie admitted, taking an empty plate from the table and walking over to the food table where Finnick was standing. She looked at the wide assortment but didn't pick anything up, unable to choose what to go for first.

"The crepes are delicious," Finnick told her, a little grin on his lips when he noticed her indecisiveness. He'd been the same way the first time he'd gone to the Capitol. They had so much to offer and didn't seem to think anything of it, or understand why such an abundance could be overwhelming to someone from any of the districts. Other than one and two, of course. "But if I were you, I'd take one of everything," he continued, sticking a spoon into the sugar dish and scooping a rather large amount into his mug. He glanced over at her as he stirred the sugar into his glass, noting that she seemed to be taking his advice. After he stirred some cream into his coffee, he set it on the table, grabbed a plate, and did the same as Annie was doing.

"Did you mean it?" Her voice was so quiet Finnick could very well have imagined it. His eyes flicked up to meet hers as she sat down across from him, setting her plate opposite his. "What you said about them? I... I don't know how to do that... To 'play by their rules'. I don't know what that means," she said, trying hard to keep the panic from her voice. The fact that she hadn't slept at all must have been taking a toll on her emotions, and the stress she had to be feeling wasn't going to remain contained forever.

Finnick's food sat on the table in front of him, forgotten. He was focused more on the girl in front of him and how he hated that he could hear the underlying pleading in her voice. 'I can't help you'. The thought was at the front of his mind and he wanted nothing more than to tell her; to rid himself of this responsibility and escape from the weight of how much she was counting on him to bring her home. "It just means you have to know what they want and make sure they get it," he stated, carefully keeping any tiredness from his tone. "If you want to make it, leave Annie Cresta here." His words were painful even to him. When was the last time he'd seen the real Finnick?

"No."

Finnick's eyes were stuck on her, as though he couldn't believe the quiet girl before him would deny his advice.

"I'm not going to pretend to be someone else for their benefit. They've already killed me. I'm not giving them anything else." Her eyes were intense- there was a flame in them Finnick hadn't seen before, and the crying girl from the lounge compartment was replaced with a sense of frustration and loss that struck his core. There had been a time when he had possessed the same attitude and the same sense of invincibility.

"You don't have to give it to them," he stated, his tone removed. He was well versed in not allowing his emotions to be seen and this was no different. "They'll take it anyway." His eyes flicked distractedly to the window behind her as they whizzed past tall buildings, flashes of colour darting past even as the train began to slow down. He nodded his head toward the window, gesturing for her to take a look. When she stepped up from her seat and peered out the window, he remained seated where he was and just watched. She was staring out the window intensely and he could only imagine how captivated she was seeing everything for the very first time. He wondered if she was amazed like he had been the first time he'd seen it all; even he had been able to push through his hatred enough and allow his curiosity to make an appearance. Or maybe she was disgusted, the way he was with each day spent here.

Finnick didn't even turn to look at Mags. He hadn't noticed her enter the compartment until he heard her shuffle over to the table. Her chair scraped heavily against the floor as she pulled it out and took a seat next to him, but Annie seemed too entranced by what she was staring at to hear her. It wasn't until Mags spoke up that Annie seemed to jump a little bit, remaining otherwise unresponsive.

"Welcome to the Capitol."

**Thanks for taking the time to read! I hope this chapter was alright. I'm going to try to publish them every Friday. Saturday will hopefully be the latest, as was the case this week when I got a little busier than expected xP**


	3. Chapter 3

Being in the Capitol was always unpleasant and Finnick found that it didn't get better with time, but worse. This was his fifth year as a mentor and at this point he'd seen more children from his district die than he could handle. Not a single youth from his home district had returned since his games and a piece of each of them haunted him. Because it was his fault, wasn't it? He should have been the one to save them. He wondered how many years it would take before he started to forget some of them- before he couldn't possibly remember all those faces. Sometimes the memories of them were too much.

At the moment, Annie and Kellen were in the Remake center where they would be waxed and made over until they were two different people. All Finnick had to do was wait for them out of the public eye, where he preferred to be. It wasn't often that being in the Capitol gave him time to wonder what he should be doing with himself. Only during the games, and only throughout the first week. After Annie and Kellen were in the arena, it would mean seeking out sponsors- as many as he could find to keep them alive. He would be a fool to believe that his image with the Capitol citizens had nothing to do with the amount of sponsors he could string together, and around this time, he used it.

**(~scenebreak~)**

_Uncomfortable wasn't a strong enough word. Finnick's stomach was in knots and he had no idea how he was supposed to pull this off without getting sick. His nerves were making it difficult to get through the dinner party to which he'd been told to escort a certain young lady. He didn't know much about her except that she was the daughter of someone very wealthy who was of high importance to Snow. The President wasn't big on details and Finnick hadn't received any to speak of. Only that he was to entertain Amalia for the evening. But the President had made it clear as to what he meant, and Finnick wasn't going to refuse him a second time. Not with the death of his younger sister fresh in his mind. _

_Dinner was coming to a close no matter how much Finnick wished this portion of the evening could continue. Sitting here among the girl's friends was fine and maybe he could even enjoy himself if not for the weight of the knowledge of what was to come. With the realization that he was staring off, Finnick forced a convincing smile onto his face, turning to Amalia to address her question. _

_"Should we go?" She gave an almost shy smile, glancing at her circle of friends with feigned innocence. Bragging without words. It made Finnick sick. _

_"I'd love to," he agreed, the corner of his mouth quirking up into a cocky grin. "Thank you all for a great evening but I think it's time for Amalia and I to go," he stated, snaking an arm around her waist, noting the red tint of her youthful cheeks. The smile that beamed on her face. The excited giggles that escaped her friends- less than discreet, as he assumed they were attempting to be. _

_The car that took them to Amalia's residence was parked directly outside the door when they stepped outside. Finnick wondered if it had been waiting for them this whole time or if maybe the young woman had somehow gotten a message to the driver to that they were ready without his noticing it. Anything seemed possible in the Capitol and nothing would come to surprise him anymore. He was all out of room for surprises. They entered the car- Amalia first as Finnick held the door open for her as she seemed to expect him to- and they seemed to be entirely alone. Finnick couldn't see the driver in the front seat through the tainted window nor could he hear any shuffling or sounds that might indicate his or her presence. This feeling of being completely alone with her made him want to get out of the car as soon as possible. _

_Amalia turned to face him in her seat- they resembled something closer to a couch than the seat of a vehicle- and her pitch black eyes rested on his face. The colour of her eyes blended directly with her pupils, making it appear as though she had none, and yet her gaze was piercing. Maybe she meant it to be soft, but it seemed to Finnick as though she saw straight through him. Surprisingly intense for a woman of her eighteen years. _

I can't do this._ It was the only thought on his mind as she leaned in closer. _I need to get out. _But he couldn't. He was trapped, and his actions would reflect on his loved ones. Snow had made that much clear. This had to be convincing. So at sixteen years old, Finnick surrendered himself to the whims of the woman in the back of the car as her lips pressed against his. He kissed her back with too much force, his nerves getting the best of him, but he realized he didn't know what to do. _

_His temporary salvation came when the car pulled to a stop outside a tall building. Amalia took this as an opportunity to push him onto his back on the seat. Her hair tickled his skin as she moved on top of him, and he kissed her deeply before pulling away, only slightly. "Let's move this inside," he told her, his mouth close to hers as he spoke, but he didn't move in for another kiss. He waited for her to move off of him._

_But salvation didn't last long. Finnick was just as trapped in her vast bedroom as he was in the car. His body moved with hers, learning quickly what to do. He wasn't sure how he knew, but he followed her cues. How long could he do this before it was routine? Before he became numb? Maybe he already was._

**(~scenebreak~)**

The stadium was alive with the excited buzz eminating from the Capitol citizens as they waited for the tribute parade to begin. Pairings from each district were standing in their chariots- some nervous and some giving off an air of over-confidence. Finnick spotted the District Four chariot right away and started to make his way over, taking in the get-ups the stylists had forced Annie and Kellen into.

As usual, they were a matched set. Kellen was standing tall, his torso bare except for the golden chest plate he wore, the same style as the thick bangles that hugged his wrists. His pants were simple- thin material that seemed to portray the ripple of waves. The ridiculous Capitol trademark was the way the pants seemed to flare out to bothsides at the bottom. The imitation of a whale tail, or, he supposed, the tail of a merman.

Annie, however, was in a long, sleeveless dress whose colour Finnick couldn't entirely pinpoint. It was an overall grey with tiny bursts of bright hues on what appeared to be scales. The entire dress was made up of them and it shimmered with the slightest movement of her body, hugging every curve. Her hair flowed freely over her shoulders and down the middle of her back, while strands of her thick brown waves were pulled back and held in place by sea shells. It was only when Finnick reached the chariot that he noticed how elaborately her makeup was done. The style resembled her dress closely in the way it shone, making her green eyes seem strangely bright.

It didn't matter how much she shone or how captivating she was. It was clear that she didn't care. Her eyes found his as he stopped next to her and he could feel her nervousness as if it was his own. Her appearance may have changed drastically from the last time he'd seen her on the day they'd entered the Capitol, but she was still the same terrified seventeen-year-old girl.

"You won't have to worry about sponsors looking like that," Finnick stated, the corner of his mouth sliding into a grin. Annie seemed to pull herself away from her thoughts and replay what he'd said before attempting to return a weak smile.

"Thank you, I think," she said, the last part almost becoming a question as her cheeks flushed with colour. Her nerves were more than apparent as she fell silent once more as a result.

"Just remember: don't let them know you're afraid," Finnick told her, watching as she glanced back up at him, seemingly thinking over his latest advice.

"It's stupid that I'm nervous right now. It's just the parade. It's nothing compared to..." She let her voice trail off as though unable to mention the inevitability of being forced into the arena.

Finnick didn't let the silence that followed last, but he didn't address her statement, either. There was no right answer and the truth would only hinder her performance. If he did comment, though, it would be to tell her that she had every right to be nervous. First impressions were everything and your image could make or break you. This moment could be defining. The only comfort would be a chance to turn it around during the interviews.

"Just act like you're comfortable here. Like you've already won." A glance at the stadium clock told him they were only minutes before the parade was set to begin. "Time for me to head to my seat. Good luck, both of you," he said with a reassuring smile before finding his eat among the other mentors.

**(~scenebreak~)**

Annie and Kellen were distant but Finnick had expected as much the first night after training. They had seen first hand what they were to be up against, how easily their opponents could hit the centre of a target with a knife, wield a spear or shoot a bow. No matter what they were capable of themselves, a seed of fear would be planted within them and it would quickly grow into something potentially uncontrollable. So when both of them disappeared from the table after barely touching their plates, Finnick didn't ask questions. Instead he just headed toward the 'living room'.

It was probably the most uncomfortable looking living room Finnick had seen, filled with furniture that was more meant as decoration than a place to sit. He sat down and turned on the TV, not really caring about what they would be playing- no doubt recaps of the tribute parade- but more so just for some background noise. Sometimes silence was too heavy.

A creak in one of the floorboards forced Finnick's attention to the area behind him- an open entrance doorway that lead toward the bedrooms. Annie was walking quietly into the room, her eyes focused on whatever she was holding in her hands. Her fingers were working intently on something he couldn't quite see. He wondered if she even knew he was there or if she had come out here thinking it was deserted and that she could be alone. She raised her gaze for just a second and spotted him on the couch. Wordlessly, she moved to sit down on the other end, and now Finnick saw that the thing in her hands was a piece of rope with two plastic pieces on each end, leading him to believe it had come from a sweater.

"Practicing outside of training hours isn't allowed," Finnick started, the trace of a smirk on his lips, his eyes focused on her task. "But I won't tell if you won't." He watched as she slipped the end of her piece of rope through a loop she had crafted, resulting in the entire knot coming undone.

"Oh, you would do that for me?" Annie asked, her appreciation obviously feigned as she continued attempting the same knot. Her brow was creased in frustration and she didn't seem to notice the TV as she rode into the stadium on her chariot.

"For you, anything," Finnick said teasingly, incorporating a touch of the voice he often reserved only for the citizens of the Capitol. He laughed when he caught Annie rolling her eyes. He glanced at the TV again, watching as the cameras zoomed in on the tributes from Four. Annie's smile, to someone who hadn't met the sullen girl Finnick had, might have been considered lovely. She glowed with the crowd's enthusiasm, soaking it up. She waved, and they seemed to love the beautiful girl from Four.

"You were great today," he said, allowing himself to look away from the TV once more in favour of the young woman attacking the string. The camera men had moved on to the tributes from Five, but Finnick still remembered the image clearly, and he was just as proud now as he had been in the moment. She could do this- she could get the sponsors.

"You think so?" Annie asked, although she didn't look up. She pulled on the string, trying to tighten what might pass for the knot she was attempting, although Finnick didn't recognize it as, well, anything. She let it fall from her fingers to the couch, too frustrating to continue.

"I do. And I think they would agree," he added, referring to the way the citizens had clapped and shouted as the camera fell on Annie. "You keep up like this and you'll have sponsors eating out of the palm of your hand," Finnick promised, reaching for the string she'd dropped. "What did the rope do to deserve this?"

Annie glowered at him before giving a light, embarrassed laugh. "It embarrassed me in training. It deserved that and more," she confided, letting her head fall frustradedly into her hands. She let out a little groan. "It was the only thing I could think of to practice without being in the training arena. I can't just sit around and do nothing.

Finnick nodded and untangled the mess she'd made of the rope, trying to decipher what it was supposed to be. "What were you trying to do?" He looked at her as her eyes peaked out from over her crossed arms, staring at the rope in his hands.

"It was supposed to be a poacher's knot." Annie straightened up and stared as he untied the rope with ease.

He moved closer to her so she could see what he was doing and started the knot over from scratch. "Watch me do it," he instructed, his fingers moving around the rope slowly as he formed the bight at the end and proceeded to wrap the end around a couple times. "It's actually pretty easy once you get the hang of it," he said, eyes on what he was doing before he tucked the ends in and pulled. "See?" The knot was done and he handed the rope back to Annie, a somewhat coneited grin on his lips. "Think you can handle it?" Finnick untied his knot and handed the limp rope back to her.

Annie's face was a mask of complete concentration as she formed the bight, just like he had. She seemed to consider her next movement before she did it. It was almost as if she was afraid to embarrass herself in front of him, too. Which, he supposed, she probably was. When she looked up at him, he just shrugged as if he had no idea. She should figure it out on her own now instead of in the arena if she ever needed to. It took a couple minutes and Finnick assumed it was more of a confidence thing than anything- too much second guessing- and she stopped on the final step.

"I can't believe I forgot the last step," she muttered, and he could hear the frustration in her tone.

He moved so his hands were over hers, so she wouldn't miss a thing he was doing. "You just wrap it around the bight, like that," he said, moving slow so she understood. "Just tuck the ends in while you do it, and then pull it tight," he finished, demonstrating as he completed the knot. "Try it again on your own." Finnick moved back to his place, his eyes following the movements of her fingers as she tugged at the knots.

**(~scenebreak~)**

The crowd was awaiting Caesar's interviews was vast and impatient. Finnick sat not among the victors and mentors but at the side of a woman Snow had made it clear was important to him. She laughed and 'awwwww'd' at all the right moments as each tribute on stage played their strongest card. The girl from Three had definitely been aiming for sexy, and the boy was playing up his intelligence, but the next interview was Annie's. When Caesar announced that she was next, Finnick scanned the side of the stage where she would soon walk out. There was a questionable pause where he wondered if she'd fainted thinking about making her solo debut in front of all of these people. He breathed easier when he saw her walk onto the stage in a long purple dress, her hair pulled up, flowing out of her updo in ringlettes that spiralled down her back.

"Hello, Annie. So nice to have you joining us this evening!" Caesar's greeting was warm as always, his smile equally so as his bright red hair glimmered in the stage lighting.

"It's been an interesting visit," Annie agreed, a nervous laugh escaping her as she looked out at the crowd. She was coming off shy, sweet.

"I'll bet it has. I've heard thousands of times how different the Capitol is from the Districts and I bet you're about to tell me the same," Caesar chuckled, glancing at the audience for agreement.

"I won't tell you again in that case." Annie was blushing a little bit, her cheeks rouging in a way that was almost even more appealing.

"Considerate girl," the older man gave another token laugh. "So Annie, you were beautiful in the parade. I think all of our guests will agree with me." An enthused murmur from the crowd told him he was right. "How did you feel making your first entrance in the Capitol?"

Annie seemed to think about it for a moment. "I was nervous," she admitted, the blush still evident on her cheeks. "I kind of still am," she laughed, and the crowd laughed with her.

"I'm sure you have no reason to be nervous at all! Am I right?" Caesar asked the audience, and many people shouted their agreement. "But I understand this may not be all you're nervous for," he continued, his voice taking on a more serious tone.

Annie nodded. "I... I couldn't believe it was really happening. I still can't," she said, her voice losing the bubbly quality it had only moments before.

"I'm sure you're not alone. But Annie, I think you can win this thing." Caesar had leaned in a little closer, as though he was telling her a secret.

"Thank you, that means a lot," she said, forcing a weak smile. "But I think I can, too."

A proud smile spread Finnicks mouth. She was playing her cards right. Fragile and confident. Maybe the others wouldn't see her as a threat- but this way she could still gain sponsors. The audience loved her so far, and he would make sure they loved her more.

**(~scenebreak~)**

Annie was shaking as she stood and waited for the shuttle that would fly her, Kellen and the other tributes to the pods. It was only about an hour until they were to enter the arena and Finnick was trying hard to think of any piece of advice he had yet to mention. There was nothing, though. Annie and Kellen were on their own from here on out and as much as he hated it, his job to them was almost over. The most he could do now was play his part behind the scenes, get them sponsors when he could. Ensure they stayed alive.

"Here, drink some water," Finnick said, passing one water bottle to Annie and another to Kellen. The boy was shaking almost as much as Annie was, making it difficult for him to tip the water back. When he did, he got more of it on his face than he did in his mouth. Annie didn't even attempt to drink out of hers. There was too much weighing on her mind- the fact that she could be dead in an hour.

"W-what do I do first? What if I c-can't get away from the bloodbath, like you said? What if I get dragged in somehow?" Her mind was working on overdrive, and Finnick remembered when his had done the same thing.

"You won't. As soon as the canon goes off, you run away from the cornucopia. You get out of there. You're not a career." Kellen, however, had a chance as a career. He and Finnick had talked about this in private.

"I just get far away. That's all." Annie was repeating the facts as though it was easier to do that than to think about what else could happen.

"Right. That's all." There was no sense in any discouraging talk. Annie would know what to do. She'd gone through her training and she'd played her cards right until now. He was just about to say something else when a peacekeeper started prodding Annie and Kellen toward the shuttle.

"Time to go," he stated, his tone full of finality.

"Good luck," Finnick called to her, watching as the two terrified teenagers walked towards what could be their deaths.

It was an hour later when the TV finally flicked to life, the broadcast about to start. Finnick was standing outside the gamemakers headquarters with some of the other headquarters, all watching on a big screen. Mags was at his side, and as the countdown began, her cold hand found his and held it for comfort. He slid an uneasy glance her way, almost sick to his stomach. The tributes had all risen onto their platforms and stood motionless, all of them warned about what would happen otherwise.

Twenty... Nineteen... Eighteen... Seventeen... Sixteen...

Finnick found Annie standing across from the back of the cornucopia, the ground a dark brown with what seemed to be wet soil and thick mud. Behind her were trees, but through openings he could see ropes and vines, what looked like a river, and many ferns. She just had to run for the trees.

Ten... Nine... Eight... Seven... Six...

Her body didn't seem to be shaking anymore. Instead she seemed focused on the task at hand, her mind too busy to leave room for her fear. He remembered it well. _Run, Annie_.

Five... Four... Three... Two... One...

And the boom of the canon.

**Hope that was alright! I'd love to hear your input so reviews are welcome :) Thanks for reading! Updates on Fridays (or at least that's why I aim for :P )**


End file.
